Tame Impala, Fascinator
Tuesday, June 18 at The National
A few weeks ago, Tame Impala played their Richmond debut to a sold out crowd at the National. It’s taken me this much time to digest the Perth band’s performance. One of the most attentive crowds I’ve seen in a large venue setting created a synchronicity between performer and viewer. This put my previous two times seeing the band, both of which were in DC, to shame. When I first saw Tame Impala play in 2011, they stuck to the song structures of their recorded work, but when I saw them again this past February, they added segues between songs that sounded like wordless remixes of their music. At The National, they continued to push the boundaries of their music and expand beyond the studio versions of their songs. Exuding confidence, they created space for jams and explorations that buttressed the dreamy escapism of their music.
Photo by Jesse Kotansky
I caught little of the facemask-clad opener, Fascinator, but what I heard sparked my curiosity. Their stage costumes and experimentation with trippy sound effects were noteworthy, but what I’ve found most interesting is the small selection of music videos I discovered in the wake of their performance. For example, their video for "Mr. Caterpillar," in which people dance in bacon costumes. Let that speak to you here: http://youtu.be/LICgT2x3380
Tame Impala opened their set with “Led Zeppelin,” in all of its riffed-out rock and roll glory. Energy immediately overtook the room, and when they began to play “Solitude is Bliss,” a single from their debut LP, Innerspeaker, the familiarity of the tune jolted the crowd and got people dancing. While the band tours and performs as a five- piece, the core of Tame Impala is lead guitarist and vocalist Kevin Parker. His music manages to exult in solitude, but when he's performing live with a five-piece band, in front of thousands of listeners, even his deepest introspection can spark outward cathartically. This is exactly what happened on "Solitude Is Bliss," as the band followed the intense rawness of "Led Zeppelin" with an opportunity for Parker to get down to his usual business of waxing poetic. "There’s a party in my head and no one is invited, and you will never come close to how I feel... Movement doesn’t flow quite like it does when I’m alone," Parker crooned in his George Harrison esque voice.
Photo by Caleb Davenport
During the first few songs, I was unsure if they’d stray from a standard format of their songs, but my ears were met with surprise as "Solitude" was unleashed into a jam. This was not “noodley,” either--there were no sloppy segues. Notes and rhythms loosened like dust settling, synthesizers repeated mind-bending psychedelic patterns. Listeners’ ears were kneaded like play dough until the whole thing dropped suddenly onto the ground in one swift thud. As the band brought these jams to their zenith, I watched jaws drop. Like true professionals, they jolted us with intense synchronicities.
The energy continued to build towards the middle of the set as the band went into “Elephant.” This is their party track, the tune on commercials. A smiling Parker remarked that it was “for you, Richmond.” Admittedly, “Elephant” has never been my favorite track, but the energy with which they delivered it stymied all expectations. The sound was suddenly much more contained and stripped down. It rocked, and it was loud.
Photo by Bart Vander Sanden
Anyone who’s delved into Tame Impala's earlier material was delighted at the appearance of “Alter Ego,” from Innerspeaker, followed by "Half Full Glass of Wine," from the band's 2008 self-titled EP. These two tracks offer opposing emotions. "Alter Ego" commands you to look inwards: "Said the voice from afar, don’t you know it doesn’t have to be so hard, waiting for everyone else around to agree?” Like a modern day Lao-tzu, Parker cuts to the core of what it is to be a self-aware human being. The song is complete sonic hypnosis. Parker’s vocal strength shines through, as the mere intonation of his voice creates the chill up your spine that is so very psychedelic, so very Tame Impala. Drummer Julien Barbagallo amped up the intensity, keeping a militaristic beat. The French drummer’s chops carried the latter half of the show, where he eventually undertook a powerful solo. The sound of his snare alone is chilling.
Photo by Magdalena Jaworska
After "Alter Ego," the band let in the groove, and took on an I-don’t-give-a-fuck vibe for “Half Full Glass Of Wine.” This tune is meant to be heard loudly, and heads thrashed along. “Now my only company’s a half full glass of wine” was an appropriate line for a crowd that had, at this point, been jolted emotionally by the trajectory of the setlist. Tame Impala's most recent album, the aptly named Lonerism, celebrates the theme of solitude that has been evoked by Parker throughout Tame Impala's career--as this early song proved. Through his exploration of these themes, Parker is creating a vernacular for a lost millennial generation. And strategic song placement cannot be ignored--"Half Full Glass Of Wine" brought full circle the celebration of solitude that had begun with "Solitude Is Bliss."
Perhaps what Tame Impala is all about is allowing space for the truth to seep in. In addition to the drum solo, there were other moments where the drumming stopped in order to give other members of the band their moments in the spotlight. All of these singular actions brought the lyrical messages into the realm of the musical performance. Space, timing, energy. Tame Impala delivered on all fronts like psychedelic warriors on the battleground of technical musical ability.
Photo by Susanne Stricker
On this particular night I was struck by Parker’s ability to simultaneously lull and energize a crowd. I felt both hypnotized and energized. That may sound paradoxical, but paradox lies at the heart of Tame Impala. They fuse dance party anthems with psychedelic experimentation, celebrating contentment with solitude amongst hordes of fellow humans. Kevin Parker’s lonesome solo project was realized live by a crew of musicians who deliver the sounds so well that I can hardly believe they didn’t help write the songs. The band encored with a tune off Lonerism, “Nothing That Has Happened So Far Has Been Anything We Could Control.” While many bands seek to rock your face off with the encore, this song that often flies under the radar made an apt closer. It managed to settle the energy of crowd and satisfy all in attendance. As the band exited, it was clear that the crowd wanted more... but the timing was right.